


Can't Objectively Vaccinate Iconic Desire - COVID 19

by Aleique



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, COVID, Coronavirus, Crack Treated Seriously, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Inspired by Real Events, Light Angst, Misunderstandings, Mostly porn, Pandemics, Porn With Plot, Quarantine, Serious undertones, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Room, Smut, This is my coping skill, Wash Your Hands, cum kink, minimal plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:54:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23128120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleique/pseuds/Aleique
Summary: Draco and Hermione are - grudgingly -  traveling partners for the St. Mungo’s, in San Francisco for a conference, when the entire Bay Area goes on lockdown as a public health measure against COVID-19. Next thing they know, they're trapped in a hotel room for an indeterminable amount of time with nothing to do - except maybe each other.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 17
Kudos: 211





	Can't Objectively Vaccinate Iconic Desire - COVID 19

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Cessation Obligatoire de la Vaccination contre d’Irrépressibles Désirs - COVID-19](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23268256) by [Wynhilde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wynhilde/pseuds/Wynhilde)



> Uhhh so I wrote this in the last 2.5 hours, no editing, I've never written smut before for the most part - but it came to me in the middle of the night, so! Here we go! Have fun! Sorry not sorry!
> 
> I'm in NorCal and we're all settling in for COVID-19 lockdowns over here, so my brain produced...this. Tah-dah!

“Granger. Granger. Stop hyperventilating. Goddamnit, can’t you just pull it together?” 

Hermione was sitting against the wall, curled with her knees to her chest, in the middle of a full fledged panic attack right next to _Draco Malfoy_ of all people, who looked like he was considering trying to slap her to her senses. “Calming Drought. In my purse.” She managed to gasp out. 

If she’d had her eyes open, she would have seen Malfoy roll _his_ eyes. “ _Accio_ Hermione Granger’s purse,” he snapped. Her black handbag that was expanded to hold far more than it should flew to his hand. He rummaged around in it, knocking a few things onto the floor, before finally having the wisdom to summon the calming drought into his hand, uncorking it, and handing it to her to swallow. She did so, and slowly her breathing began to slow down to normal rates. 

As she began to feel more like herself, Malfoy, as though suddenly realizing he was within a foot of her contaminated Muggleborn body, wrenched himself away to the other side of the room. _Merlin, some things would never change,_ Hermione thought to herself. It made her attraction to him all the more ridiculous - here she was, carrying a torch for her childhood bully and reluctant colleague, whereas he still thought she was genetically inferior and always would be. 

She stood up and walked to read the letter on the table that had been insta-owled from Britain, although she already knew its contents. 

_To: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger_

_We are regretful to hear the news of your circumstances while in the United States. Although we had hoped that sending two of our most highly qualified infectious disease healers would shed some light on magical solutions to the pandemic, we did not anticipate the total lockdown that you have found yourselves in. Unfortunately, at this point in time, we can not immediately bring you back to Britain. Even in this trying time, International Portkeys take a minimum of two days to get manufactured and approved, so we recommend you quarantine yourselves in the hotel room until we can get the permits to bring you back home - at which point, naturally, you’ll have to submit to the mandatory 14-day quarantine here. Please make sure to cooperate with all WHO and CDC protocols regarding COVID-19 as well as MUCOUS guidelines. It is our understanding that MUCOUS will arrange for provisions during your isolation. Rest assured that we will have you both home as soon as possible._ _  
_ _Thank you both for your understanding and cooperation,_

_Ernest Loqua_

_Chief Healing Officer of St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries_

“Granger,” Malfoy sighed, “Reading it again isn’t going to change its contents.”

“I _know_ that,” Hermione snapped. “I just can’t believe I’m stuck here,” she added, the unspoken _with you_ hanging heavily in the air. 

The Magical United Conference of Unideal Sickness - MUCOUS, for short - had seemed like a great idea when Britain first got the invitation to participate. Muggle governments all around the world were cooperating and brainstorming ways to fight COVID-19. It seemed like the Wizarding World should also convene to discuss the matter, and given that outbreaks were currently the worst in Asia and Europe, America had seemed like the best place. Ultimately, MUCOUS ended up settling on having the meeting in one of the hidden Wizarding sections of a major hotel in San Francisco. The conference had been supposed to end tomorrow - right up until the morning of today, when San Francisco and the surrounding counties had announced a mandatory quarantine, and MUCOUS had decided to abandon the conference and decree that everyone was to stay in their assigned hotel rooms until further arrangements could be worked out. 

So, here she was, with Draco Malfoy, her least-favorite but also most-attractive colleague. In their hotel room. With one king bed, and the rollaway she’d barely managed to obtain, so as to preserve her sanity. 

Malfoy shook his head. “I’m going to take a shower,” he muttered with a grimace. Hermione nodded, and then as soon as the bathroom door closed, pulled out her cellphone to dial Ginny. 

“Ginny - hi - you won’t believe what’s happened,” Hermione blurted as soon as Ginny picked up the phone. The shower water started, and Hermione explained the situation to her best friend - being trapped in the hotel room for the next 36+ hours, and not being able to leave the presence of the man who had been the subject of most of her fantasies for the last six months, if not longer. 

Ginny did not grasp the seriousness of the situation. “Well, look on the bright side, Hermione! You literally could not have picked a hotter person to be trapped with. I know you’ve been wanting to jump his bones -” Hermione took in a breath to try to stop the conversational freight train that was Ginny Potter, “No, don’t deny it. You can’t lie to me. When even was the last time you had sex?” Too long, honestly, if Hermione was honest with herself. “You could not have picked a better person to be stuck in a hotel room with.” 

Hermione was finally able to get a word in edgewise, her voice growing loud in her frustration, “No, Ginny, I definitely could not have picked a _worse_ person to be trapped with!”.

It was only when the bathroom door banged open, and Draco stepped out wearing just a towel, that Hermione realized the shower had been off and he had _definitely_ just heard that sentence. 

“Ginny, I’ve got to go. I’ll phone you later,” Hermione managed to say, hanging up the phone.

Draco’s face was a bizarre mixture of furious and sad. Although, she’d only noticed that once she’d dragged her gaze up, with considerable effort, from the V of his hips, up to his toned abdomen, across his pectorals, and finally to his face. _All of which,_ a tiny and sexually frustrated part of her brain pointed out to her greater conscious mind, _was dripping with beads of water_ in a way that made her knickers damp with desire. She fought the urge to press her thighs together.

“Hermione,” he started, raking a hand through his wet, chin length platinum blond hair - “Listen, I know we had...a bad...that’s an understatement. Okay. I know we had an incredibly bad relationship in childhood. And I swear, I understand that, but I apologized decades ago and we’ve worked in the same department for the last three years and been co-heads of that department for the last eight months.” That was all true. He’d gone on his knees and apologized to her while they were both finishing out their eighth year at Hogwarts. After, she had gone to Healing school in Australia and lost track of him - right up until he showed up as the new pediatric infectious disease attending at St Mungo’s after completing his medical training in France. And now, between the two of them, they, along with their employees, oversaw all of the patients with variable infectious diseases in the entire hospital. Their professional relationship had never been...comfortable, but it had been cordial, albeit tense at times. Not to mention, there was the most recent holiday party where they’d both gotten tipsy and she’d _thought_ his gaze lingered just a little too long on her red lipstick - but that could all be in her head. 

He plowed on, “And I’ve had the utmost respect for you our entire adult lives, particularly since working together. I think you’re brilliant, obviously, but you’re also genuine, kind, not to mention - “ a pale blush rose to his cheeks as he reigned in his ramble. “All of that is to say - we still haven’t been able to move past what an absolute _arse_ I was as a kid. Which, I can’t blame you for, really. But I didn’t realize you thought that poorly of me, that I was your least favorite person to see. I didn’t realize I was still making your life miserable.” Draco’s voice was shaking, and he looked almost on the verge of tears. Hermione was speechless. 

Draco’s lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes glimmered. “Anyway. I’ll hand in my notice once we’re off this stupid quarantine, and you won’t have to put up with me anymore.”

Hermione felt like a bobblehead, her head shaking _no_ so fast she half thought it might fall off. “Don’t - that’s not what I meant. You don’t have to quit. We work well together. Don’t quit.” 

He laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “I don’t think there are many ways to misinterpret that. I’m the worst person you could be here with. Your least favorite person in the world. I understand. You don’t have to try to lie and pretend that it’s all a misunderstanding.”

“Malfoy - Draco - it is a misunderstanding. I swear. You don’t need to quit. We’ll go back to work in two days and we can pretend this never happened, and we’ll keep working together.”

“No, Granger. I’m not going to be able to forget that to you, I’ll always be - what was that last newspaper headline? Death Eater scum? I thought we’d moved past that, but evidently...not. So I’ll quit.” His posture was slumped against the bathroom doorway, a sharp contrast to his usually straight back and broad shoulders.

Hermione weighed her options. Have him quit, or explain the full context of the conversation and subsequently be swallowed up by the hotel room floor in embarrassment? The choice was obvious. She couldn’t have him quit because of a stupid misconception. She bit her lip, not noticing the way his eyes dropped to her mouth. “I swear to you I don’t view you like that. If I tell you what I really meant, promise you won’t make fun of me, okay? At least not too much”. 

Draco nodded, eyes simultaneously full of both skepticism and hope. “I promise,” he stated solemnly. 

“Ginny was making fun of me. She - she said there’s not a better person for me to be in a hotel room with. Actually, at first she said there wasn’t a _hotter_ person to be here with. And then she was trying to convince me to sleep with you. Her exact words were, and I quote, ‘I know you’ve been wanting to jump his bones’. Anyway.” Honestly, Hermione didn’t realize quite how pathetic and stupid it sounded until she stopped talking. Her gaze was glued to the floor.

His affect and demeanor changed so abruptly it was like a light switch. “Oh. _Oh._ Well, Granger, I’ve got to say, that’s a hell of a lot better for my ego than what it first sounded like.” His voice, moments before sounding defeated and depressed, now had a level of cockiness to it that she was much more accustomed to. 

“Yes, well. _Now_ can we pretend this conversation never happened? And you won’t quit?” Hermione tried her best to keep her voice cool and level headed, but only partly succeeded. 

Draco tilted his head to the side. “Maybe. Answer one question for me first, though.” She nodded against her better judgment, and he took two sudden steps towards her until he was right next to her. He lifted his hand to the bottom of her chin, tilting her head up so she had no choice but to look at him. She swallowed, visibly, mouth all of a sudden dry as a desert. He continued, “ _Have_ you been wanting to, quote, ‘jump my bones’?” 

Hermione blinked rapidly. “No,” she finally managed, the lie sounding blatant even to her own ears. She licked her lips to wet them. 

“No? I’ll let you try to answer that one more time. Just to be clear...you’ve never thought about being spread out on the bed for me and me licking that pretty pussy til you scream? You’ve never thought about my cock sliding into you, stretching you out and filling you and making you feel so good?” 

Hermione was aware of her pulse roaring in her ears, heady with desire. She opened her mouth, but nothing managed to come out except a small, humiliating whimper.

He smirked, but it had no bite to it - only endless promise. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he murmured, and she could only nod. 

His lips pressed against hers, slowly at first, as though giving her the chance to pull away, but when she kissed him back the kiss quickly became fevered until she thought she would burn up from the strength in it. He moved down on to her neck, leaving a mark that she was sure would bruise, and she shocked herself by how loud she moaned when he sucked particularly hard. Her hands found purchase on his muscled shoulders as he pressed her up against the wall. As she gripped his bare shoulders, she was abruptly reminded of the fact that all he had on was the white towel slung low on his hips. 

He remembered too, apparently, because he said “Granger, you’ve got too many clothes on” in between leaving marks across her neck and collarbones. She could only nod in agreement, reaching down to pull her shirt off, leaving her only in her dress pants and lacy black bra. His gaze immediately dropped to her tits, admiration evident in his stare. She could feel his erection pressing into her lower belly and wriggled against it. “Fuck,” he muttered, almost a grumble from somewhere deep within his chest. She moved against him again, and he momentarily moved his hands to her hips, pressing her away from his waist and closer to the wall. Next thing she knew, he was moving her hands up from her hips to thumb at her nipples through her bra. She gasped at the sensation, feeling her entire body aching with need. 

His hands danced across her breasts, taking off her bra with ease and then tracing a circle with his tongue around her nipple before finally - _finally -_ enclosing his mouth over it. “God, Draco. More, please.” She was practically begging, knew she’d be embarrassed about it in the morning, but in the moment she couldn’t bring herself to care. 

He chuckled against her breast. He took his mouth off of her and she felt bereft at the loss, but only briefly, as he began to use his hands to undo her pants. “Impatient little minx. It’s called foreplay, Granger. Surely you’ve heard of it.” 

She shook her head impatiently. “Foreplay next time. I’ve waited too long for this.” She noticed his breath stutter at the implication of a _next time_ and realized she might have spoken too much, that this might just be a one night stand. She drew in a breath to apologize but he covered her mouth with another kiss that took her breath away immediately. 

Draco finally got her pants undone, and they dropped to pool at her feet, where she kicked them off. He pressed a finger against her clit through her knickers and she gasped. “Fuck, you’re dripping,” he ground out. 

Hermione nipped her teeth along the shell of his ear, realizing when he moaned louder than before that she’d found a major erogenous zone for him. “All for you,” she whispered in reply to his earlier comment as she continued to lave attention on his ear, leaving him breathless. He slid her knickers to the side, running a finger through her folds and then finally entering her. “Fuck,” she gasped at the sensation, eyes fluttering closed. It had been too long. Draco pressed a second finger inside, finding the spot inside her that always without fail made her insides light up like a Christmas tree.

“Bed,” she managed to grind out. He nodded in full agreement. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist - bringing her into full, delicious contact with his cock. Carrying her to the bed, he nearly tripped against the rollaway she had insisted upon, and she giggled breathlessly. With more than she would have expected, he laid her down on the middle of the bed, legs still wrapped around him. 

“I want you inside of me,” she told him. 

“Are you on the potion?” 

She’d been taking it on a monthly basis since she first began having sex, but she appreciated his caution. “Yes,” she told him, elaborating with confidence she didn’t know she’d possessed, “I want to feel you cum in me”. 

His cock twitched against her and he groaned. “Hermione,” - she wasn't sure she'd ever heard him call her by her first name, she dimly realized, “You can’t just _say_ things like that.” 

She laughed, and wordlessly summoned her wand into her fingertips. His eyes flashed at the display of magical prowess as she cast the disease protection spells on both of them. After all, they both specialized in infections - it would hardly do to be lax in safety. 

The necessarily logistics out of the way, he took a moment to adjust her legs around his waist, and then in one, astonishingly fluid moment, he entered her fully.

They both gasped, savoring the feeling. “God, you feel so good,” he bit out. He was big enough that she felt stretched in that way that was just a smidge uncomfortable but also _so so_ good. “Move, please,” she demanded, and he did. “Harder,” she asked breathily. 

He did. Her eyes rolled back into her head. “Draco, please. Fuck me harder.” 

He gave into it then, pounding into her, and then adjusting her hips just so the curve of him dragged along that spot on her front wall and she nearly screamed. “Merlin,” she panted, almost in disbelief. 

There were no words for a while after that, just the two of them moving together towards that peak. He brought his thumb to her clit, rubbing her as she spiraled closer to orgasm. 

“Fuck, Hermione. _Fuck._ I’m so close. Are you close?” She nodded, unable to vocalize just how close she was. His thumb got her clit _just right_ and then she was gone, riding out the hazy waves of her orgasm as she clenched around him. And he was gone with her, pulsing inside of her for long moments, staying inside for a bit longer before slipping out of her with a noise that made her blush. She could feel him starting to drip out of her, and then he brought a finger down to her overly sensitive parts and he pushed the mess he had made back inside of her. She whimpered.

They were both panting, coming down off the high that was good sex, and she knew that even with the pandemic, things would be alright. 


End file.
